


to get you off my mind

by narryblossom



Series: begin again [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Beginning Again, M/M, immediately after hiatus starts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:52:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narryblossom/pseuds/narryblossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry tries to get over Niall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to get you off my mind

**Author's Note:**

> this is part two of all i ask, technically also harry's pov of the "break up"

Harry didn’t regret breaking things off with Niall at all. Not. At. All.

At least that’s what he told himself.

He started by trying to move on from Niall. In December he packed up his things and got on a yacht with some family, a few friends, and an old lover. He knew Kendall was still into him, and she was a good space filler in his empty bed at night or in his lap at dinner, but it wasn’t the same. He felt guilty every time that he held her. He hated the way her jet black hair fell across his bed at night, hated that it only made him think of the stark contrast between Niall’s dark roots and the white-blond of his ends. Her lips were too soft when they kissed, too sticky with lip products. He missed kissing stubble and feeling rough hands cup his neck, he couldn’t get used to the dainty hands that rested on his waist or around his shoulders.

So he went home—not to his mum, but to Hollywood Hills. He tried to focus on himself, to find inner peace, but that didn’t work either. Whenever he sat down at the table with his morning tea, he would remember the way his feet used to sit between Niall’s and the way Niall would slowly rub their heels together as a silent good morning in case his mouth were already full of breakfast. Harry hated the sound of Niall crunching away on his cereal, but the room felt deafeningly quiet without it. He cringed when his mug tapped the table and the sound resonated around his house. It wasn’t much of a home anymore.

He tried to write Niall away, make an album out of him in true Adele fashion, but then he realized that only let him think of Niall more and he couldn’t do that. He _told himself_ he couldn’t do that, anyway. He became paranoid when the words were coming to him with melodies, too afraid to record them and send them off to Julian to look over. Clouds were still getting hacked and he couldn’t risk letting songs like these into the world. So he wrote them on paper, and his office filled with crumpled pieces like a ball pit. He wanted to find the right words to describe the butterflies in his stomach when Niall laughed or perfectly identify the shade of blue of his eyes, but the words in his head wouldn’t come out the way he wanted them to.

He was frustrated, so he tried getting shitfaced and forgetting his problems, but he only woke up in the bathtub with a headache and a mess to clean up. He wouldn’t say that he had anger or control issues, but well, when you’re drunk you can’t control what you do, right? That’s what he told himself when he left his bathroom and saw his coffee table flipped, the glass top shattered across the hardwood flooring. His chairs were knocked over, his shelves were wiped clean and broken awards mingled with the broken glass. He couldn’t even fathom where to begin cleaning, so he didn’t.

He cried.

He screamed into the pillows on his bed until the aching in his head matched the aching in his heart. He flipped his pillow to find a dry spot to cry on, but it was already soaked in tears. Harry cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, and then he spent the rest of the night whimpering and trying to stop himself from dialing Niall’s number. It was in his head by memory, whenever he got a new phone he always transferred Niall’s number first because it was the easiest thing for him to remember, and therefore the hardest thing to forget. He willed himself not to dream of Niall when he finally went to sleep, but he did anyway, as he always did.

He went off to filming in May when his tears had all dried. Dunkerque was beautiful, at least the beach he filmed on was. His costume was heavy and hot and it reminded him of Niall’s skin being pressed against his in their hotel beds, always too hot to breathe, but never hot enough to separate them. He poured cold water down his back and practiced his French with his cast mates, but when he sat alone at lunch he couldn’t help but think that Niall would have eaten with him if he were cast in this movie and then maybe they’d start again.

When filming ended early, Harry went _home_ home to visit his family. He heard on twitter that Niall was seen on a train to Cheshire, but he didn’t get his hopes up. There was nothing in Cheshire for Niall even though he kept good standings with Anne and Gemma. Niall loved them, but Harry thought he wouldn’t be able to stand seeing them after what Harry had done to him.

There was a knock on the door at half past two, but seeing as this wasn’t Harry’s house, he didn’t open the door. His mum went to the door instead, Harry could hear the smile in her voice as she greeted whoever was there, saying “it’s about time you got here, darling!”

Harry knew the voice that responded. He would know that voice anywhere.

“There were so many people in the station, I had to let ‘em clear out before I could go. Where’s he?”

Harry’s heart beat harshly against his ribs as he hurriedly stood up, pulling his beanie further onto his head in both embarrassment and force of habit. He considered throwing himself out of a window, thought surely the glass wouldn’t be too harsh of a landing pallet from the few foot drop, and then he laughed at his idea. They’d be in the room by the time he could get to the window.

“Hi.” Harry breathed out as Niall walked in the room. He expected a scowl and a glare, not the open arms and bright smile he got.

Then he finally self-indulged. He missed Niall so much, and apparently Niall missed him too.


End file.
